


Clean the wounds with bloody rags

by Sorry_im_trash



Category: High Noon Over Camelot - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Blood, Multi, Whiskey - Freeform, galahad just kinda is there, inspired by the last verses of blood and whiskey, me not understanding how fort galfridian works, the pendragons loving eatch other a lot, unsafe medical practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 12:31:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18894691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorry_im_trash/pseuds/Sorry_im_trash
Summary: There’s a dream that I get when I look out westOf a golden age and the world’s wrongs all redressedBut I wake to find there’s nothing here but fear and deathAnd between the two there’s only blood and whiskey.





	Clean the wounds with bloody rags

**Author's Note:**

> So Ive been on The Mechanisms lockdown for a few weeks now and I love the Pendragons more than life itself, please take this offering of Arthur bitching about being injured with no dialogue cause I dont know how people talk.

Arthur held his arm to his body, as he drove his motorcycle behind Lancelot's. It was bleeding, for sure, but at the heat of the battle with a group of bandits, it had been impossible to stop and assess the damage done. Now he just knew it hurt like hell, and as the adrenaline started to leave his body, he was getting woozy.

It wasn't until what must have been hours when Lancelot finally brought his bike to a elegant stop next to a large structure of some kind. It didn't seem to have any opening, it's maybe once pristine outside worn away by the winds and radiation and ash, cleaning away anyone's guess on what purpose it had once served. But for now it would shield the travellers from the ceaseless wind, and Arthur brought his bike to a stop a little less gracefully than his companions.

He jumped down from the saddle and kicked the stand out as Guinevere and Galahad stopped theirs. And as he stood, gingerly moving his injured arm, he felt Lancelot's hand on his shoulder.

"You took quite a hit, did ya?"

Arthur just grumbled in return. As Lance guided him to sit down onto the rust-red sand, most of the pain Arthur felt was in his pride. Gwen sat next to the two men, Galahad keeping his distance as always. Everyone else look relatively uninjured, save from scrapes and bruises, so Arthur was bound to get the attention of his two lovers.

Gwen started cleaning the wound of all the grime and dust. They didn't have much water, but they had raided a bandit camp and had whiskey to do the job. It burned on the wound, but Arthur's swears only got him a few sympathetic pats on the shoulder from Lance. 

In the darkness of the lower levels of the fort, they had to sacrifice stealth for the ability to keep watch. And, as Guinevere had said at the beginning of their journey, plenty of creatures could find them even if they didn't have a light.

The pendragons might have trusted Galahad well enough, but one of them was always awake through the night. And now, aching and annoyed, Arthur argued to get the first watch of the night. His lovers relented, and as they got ready to bed down, kissed him gently. Then they curled onto each other, Lance murmuring something about getting up really soon, and fell into silence. 

Arthur watched the two of them sleep, probably more than he watched the quiet wasteland around them. Even the night felt warm, the air here inside the fort smelling somehow stale even with the wind that made the dust on the ground dance around the travelers in a quiet ballet. There was an ache in Arthur, not just the one radiating from his arm, but in his heart. A bone deep yearning for a better, brighter future.

And when Lancelot finally relieved him of his watch, he fell asleep to the thoughts of what could be ahead. The light of the happier days he didn't let himself dream of when he was awake. Clean water, clean air. No more fighting, no more death, no more radiation or this goddamned dust. And all the while his companions sat besides him, with him.

-

Too early, in the middle of this beautiful dream, he felt someone gently shake him awake. He opened his eyes to darkness and pain, as the wound on his arm still ached, sharp jolts having turned into dull pounding deep in his bone. He swore as he pushed himself up with the help of Gwen.

"I dreamed again," he started, and heard Lance groan. Gwen just hmm'd and started opening the bloody makeshift bandage covering Arthur's wound. He swore as he recounted the paradise he had been so rudely shaken from, and how cruel the world around him seemed at present.

"Stop complainin'," Gwen said, without much more than loving exasperation behind her words. "I can't tie this up if you keep babblin'."

Before Arthur had half the chance to tell Gwen that he was, in fact, neither complaining nor "babbling", Lance kissed his forehead.

"We'll have time to mourn our losses later, Art, as well as to celebrate our victories. But for now we need to move."

Arthur let himself be pulled up by Lance, and they all turned to see Galahad ready to go. With a silent nod to each other they all got onto their bikes. They had a space station to save.

**Author's Note:**

> How does the fort work? I dont know  
> I kinda want to write more for these three but for now take this, pls interact


End file.
